a gift is a sword.

Chapter 1 Chapter Text

The night had been cold and long, Brienne had her warm meal to end the night and even a bowl of cream and berries to stasiste herself for the night, but there was a hunger in her that could not be fed. Nor could the sweet release of sleep aid her, this was something not even the softness of her bed could seem to ease her, or even the fantasy of dreams could seem to put such thoughts she had to rest even if she had tried too, she had spent the majority of the night twisting and turning in her bed sheets, but as she sat up on her sheets she knew what had to be done.

she knew what she was doing was wrong, was that it was feeble and unlady-like, she could hear the words of septa roelle ringing in her ears, the words of such cruelty had struck her like a hammer would to iron.

“ a ladies practice is with her needle and dance not a sword and mail, its quick to learn how much grace you’d have “

many of which she would take to heart in more aspects then another, for a woman who had held such high regard with the faith, you would have assumed she would have been much more sweeter with her words, perhaps laced with honey instead of spice.

the words that would plague her even now, as she made her way out of her bed chamber, the excitement seeped into her bones as she could feel it.

daylight would hardly be seen for hours as she made her way down the cobblestones, there had not been any knights stationed anywhere, perhaps they had settled for the night perhaps? but that didn’t matter, they were gone and she had access to what she needed.

she had darted around the courtyard, following the shadows of the night, she had been more then joyful that that there had been around to watch her, she knew that the scorn she would have been the worst thing to hear on such young ears, but it didn’t matter- she couldn’t falter when he feet had taken her so far, if she’d turned back now it would be a disgrace to what she had been telling herself from the day before, so many paths would be left uncharted, she couldn’t possibly do that, not now not ever.

azure eyes darted over to the place where she needed to be, it was the armory, she had been sure she’d find something that would fit her, despite being her thirtieth name day being only a few moons away. she had always been much taller then the girls her age, that was evident from the seamstress who had sewn her gowns, the mumbled and jabs of compliant underneath her breath made that evident whenever a tear had ripped, she could almost hear her voice as pale hands reached for what she had hopped would be there.

a oak carved wooden sword.

it would be a old thing, the wood had seemed to lose its shine over the years and decay had begun to form at its hilt, but what made the sword useful was not for its appearance but for its weight, there had been little times where she had held the sword properly only seeing what other knights had done, their moment their grips, the way they seemed to carry themselves had been something the young girl had seemed to study day and night, not a single detail would be unturned and unnoticed by her.

she would watch them, through a peek when her lessons where taking place, her gaze always seemed to wander over to them, septa roselle had always scolded her into focusing on the needle work but she would soon take in their movements, to memeory, hoping that her mermory woukd

do her well enough.

even though she knew she was alone, no one was awake at this hour, she could feel as if there would be a set of eyes watching her, but she had shook it off as a mere paranoia, just a shadow of another figure she told herself constantly as she practiced her hits, they were as weak as straw as the practice dummy had hardly developed anything to show the marks of her effort, but the fact that she was holding the wooden sword like it was one of her own. she held the hilt so tight splinters would begin to form on her hands, evidence of the fruits of her labor, but it didn’t matter, the girl had felt fred in a time where she couldn’t know of something as sweet as this.

but there was a pair of azure eyes upon her, riddled with sleep deprivation, awoken with the sounds of grunts and wood hitting cloth, it was her father who had awoken, he had worried that there had been a fight on his grounds, perhaps between two drunken squires? fighting over a whore? he wondered as he walked to the yard, alone hoping that the dust would settle enough that he didn’t need guards.

but the sight had made him think that he was still asleep? his maiden daughter, still in her sleeping clothes? hitting a training dummy with a wooden .. sword? .. he wondered as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he would have moved his lips to call out her name, but he stopped himself as he saw the moonlight glow in his daughters direction.

The look of pure joy on her face was one that not even all the dragons in Casterly rock could afford, it was the most joyful he had seen her in years, not even the gifts that he had given her on her name day could match the joy on her face at this moment.

So he let her, hit the training dummy with all of her might, let her find the joy in the sword, let her keep it close to her heart and soul, for what was the sight of joy on her daughter's face? to that of the one of tears after scolding? he thought as he moved to leave her be.

morning would come, and they would speak then.

Chapter 2: A TALK OVER TEARS

Chapter Text

sleep had seemed to call to her like a siren as she made her way back into her apartments. the ache had felt deep on her bones, perhaps this is what the knights felt after a great battle? she wondered as she was practically stumbling back into her room this time sleep had lulled her more easily this time in comparison to just a few hours ago, she would have guessed that she had taken slumber before she had even hit the pillow.

the morning to awake had felt like an instant from when she closed her eyes, her body had felt even more cumbersome and not even the morning light of dawn could have awoken her, it wasn’t until she had heard a loud mock at the door and the familiar shrill of her septa’s voice in her ear telling her to wake up, blonde strands had stuck up and her eyes where riddled with weary as she awoke, she mumbled a few words to say good morrow before she rubbed her eyes hoping it would expel the slumber that still lingered in her eyes.

septas roelle had begun speaking but her words had fallen on mute ears as she hurried around to find a simple gown that held sliver and blue details, a simple one but it would make do for her breakfast, another string of words would escape the old septa but they had been to much out of ear shot as she made her way back down the cobblestone steps, down to the dining hall where her breakfast would be served.

Although this morning was different then before, there had been barely anyone in the hall where her father had typically been absent from, but he was sitting there, in his rose and yellow sleeping clothes admired with small moons on it’s sleeves . sitting in his lap was the same oaken sword as she held in her palms just a few hours before.

she could feel her face burn up as she saw him sitting there, unable to fully read his expression was he disappointed? distrust that his daughter has picked up the sword instead of the needle that she should have done?.

her father could see the worry that filled his daughters eyes as she stood front of him, if he had any trace of anger within his expression it was seldom seen, his expression was more of a reflection of wonder perhaps? his voice called out to her as sweet as a summer rain after a hot afternoon,

“ sweet girl? have you’ve been sneaking out to train with a … play sword? “

he asked as he beckoned her to come closer, to see her as her to understand her.

as brienne stepped closer her bottom lip began to tremble and quiver and soon enough an outpouring of words soon escaped her mumbles of tears as well as they began to string along a coherent words, pulling together an apology , that she would never do anything of the sort again, that she’ll be a good daughter , the right daughter for him.

upon an instant his arms swung around her, embracing her in a high so tight that she could almost feel the air leaving her small lungs, he held her in his embrace for moments rubbing her golden locks.

“ rest assured, i hold no anger, please do not worry if such a thing. “ he said his voice as sweet as honey as he held her head and rubbing it softly as he continued to speak his voice not leaving that tone not even for a moment.

“ if my daughter will hold the sword she’ll do it right and correctly. “

he said pulling away from her as he held her shoulders, a sets of azure eyes looking at him, his mirror almost as he wiped the tears from her small face. The joy on her face was one of unmatched quality, the tear stained face soon began to crack with an expression of sunshine, not even the dorneish sun could even compare to the brightness on her face.

for what was the matter of rules to the joy of his daughter? what was the matter of order to the laughter that would expel from her lips when she was training? for something that had provided her with something that he had seemed to struggle to find for her.

Chapter 3: A TALK OVER TEARS